User blog:Corbus/Haven

This is a piece of a short story I wrote a bit back and lost for a while. Because many things about my writing have changed since then I will most likely not continue this. But seeing as I did not want to waste it I thought I would leave it for people to read, so enjoy!

Spring was coming to a glorious end as the land grew hot and water was a welcome sight. But while the summer was close there were still many creatures at work in fields and amongst the trees, harvesting for the fiery days ahead. In a small community sitting just at the border of the eastern sea they were picking the land clean and none worked so hard as Orion, the giant of the North. An abnormally large squirrel for his kind he was born in the harsh northlands. For most of his life he had traveled, going from one home to another in search of a place to settle down. After many seasons of searching he came upon Haven, a small community with scarcely a score in population and only four buildings to accommodate them. Yet in this small group he found himself truly happy, and the creatures there were only happy to bring him in to their homes. While they were at first a little curious of his size and asked many questions, as creatures are apt to do, they quickly accepted him and he fit nicely in to their daily lives. But once the first spring had arrived he truly showed his worth in the village. Being almost twice the size of a normal squirrel he was able to carry twice the amount most thought possible. When they needed wood for building or a fire he would go out, and merely hang on a low branch, his size causing the bough to snap under his weight. Never wanting to be seen as a sloth Orion was aiding the storeroom keeper, a golden mouse named Roland, after a terrible discovery that much of the wood they had had been rotted through the core. They were sifting through the logs, tapping each one to check if it was solid and good for use, making a sizeable pile of the ones found to be rotten.

“Next time I send Noctra out for wood you go with him, I swear that lad would bring us a snake if it was still enough.” Said Roland, throwing a log into the pile, only to have it fall apart as it hit the rest

“I’m sure we can find a use for this wood, maybe for a fire.” Suggested Orion

“Hah! The only use I see coming out of this useless pile of timber is to hit Noctra with it.” He exclaimed, swinging a branch as if it were a club.

“Alright, well we have enough wood as is, and I don’t see too many fires, other than for cooking, being built for a while.”

As the last of the logs was checked they found out at least a quarter of the wood was bad, all of it belonging to the young mouse named Noctra. As they turned back to the large two-story house that served as a sort of meeting place or town hall of the village Roland quietly whispered to Orion, trying to keep just out of hearing “Told ye so”

As they entered they found their village leader, an aging armadillo, within.

“Ah, you’re back, how much do we have?” He asked

“About a quarter was rotten, and I think some termites chewed through a few, but we got rid of them sure enough. Please, next time put Noctra on fishing duty, Graten.” Answered Roland, pulling a splinter out of his paw

Graten smiled wearily as he looked at the two sore workers “I didn’t put him there, I think his mum may have had something to do with it though.” He then noticed Orion rubbing his back with a cringe evident on his face, though he was attempting to hide it, “Orion, did you hit your back or something? You look a bit sore.”

“Aye, I tried to carry a few of those logs on my back, they may be rotten but some of them are pretty heavy.”

“Well there’s a nice bed in the back, the room is pretty bare but I find myself napping in there every so often, just watch when you get up, the ceiling is low for you.”

Orion nodded slowly as he went in the direction the elder had pointed. Going down a low hall he found the room. It was bare as Graten had said, having only the bed and a locked chest within, but as he sat down on it he found it surprisingly soft and comfortable and soon began to drift off into a calm slumber.

The realm of dreams is a fickle place, commanded by none it does as it wishes, brining the dreamer wherever it wishes. From fond memories to nightmares and complete madness, it is almost a window into the true mind of the dreamer, showing things that they did not even know themselves. In his sleep Orion, while comfortable, was thrashing and turning in the bed, nearly falling off and mumbling in his sleep. Images of the harsh north, his birthplace, were numerous; mingled with voices of creatures long dead and enemies long slain. As he wandered through this world of terror and happiness he was suddenly deafened by voices from just out of sight.

“Look at the size o’ him!”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; ">Orion turned around; searching the room for the voice, yet wherever he looked the voice would come from just out of his sight.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; ">“Should we chain ‘im up like the rest?”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; ">“Aye, but get a few others; this ‘un‘ll be hard to hold down.”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; ">Orion attempted to run from the voices, fearing the unseen enemies. But he was roughly wakened from his dreams to find they had been true. Standing by his bed were several vermin, garbed in rags and clutching rusted weapons. A scarred fox was standing over him, holding a pair of shackles. Acting quickly Orion swung his body off the bed, knocking the fox flat and the shackles from his paws.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; ">“’E’s awake!” shouted a rat from the band

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; ">Orion hefted up the chains, swinging them at the vermin, striking down the rat. He began to swing them at a second target on to have them entangled in a cutlass and pulled from him. Disarmed, Orion rushed at a nearby weasel, tackling him to the ground. He was able to swing in a few punches before the flat of a blade struck the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; ">He watched in silence as the vermin dragged their companions from the room, saying venomously

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; ">“’E’s no good for a servant, let ‘im rot in here.”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; ">As darkness enveloped his vision he heard the daunting sound of the door being slammed shut and some large object being placed before it.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; ">Orion awoke, sore and in complete darkness. He searched around the room for anything he could use; first he came across the door, pushing as hard as his body would allow he could not budge it. The only peace he found was a small latch on the upper part of the door, he pulled slightly on it to find a little window, letting some light and fresh air in. As the room came into full view he noticed the chest in the corner, while he knew it was locked he began to explore the lock, peering uselessly into it and searching for some kind of pick or even a knife to carve it up with, to no avail. He continued to search under the bed and around the room to find it was completely barren. Turning to the door he peeked out the small window, only letting him see a small bit of the hallway and a slim view of the room ahead. Slumping down on the floor he racked his brain to figure out how he would escape. After hours attempting to solve this near impossible task his eye lids began to weigh heavy upon him and soon found himself once again in the bed, sleeping his life away.